


Laser-Tag

by xaccier



Series: dreamnotfound fics [6]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Boy x boy, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Dark, Dramatic, Gay, Gream - Freeform, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Laser Tag, M/M, Making Out, No Smut, Romance, dorks playing laser tag, dramatic laser tag is one of my fav tropes, dream hunts george, dream is hot hot, dream is scary, dream x george, dreamnotfound, flirting??, george gets bamboozled, george is hot, heat - Freeform, very gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28172148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xaccier/pseuds/xaccier
Summary: “Turn around, George.”George gulped, throat dry. He was suddenly extremely aware of the presence behind him, shadows creeping up his back and the coldness of the gun pressed against his neck making him shiver.“And if i don’t?” George held his ground, trying to keep his voice even. He wasn’t entirely sure that it worked, though.He felt the barrel of the gun move from his neck and press against his back.“Then I’ll shoot you.”——Or, Dream and George go laser-tagging, and gayness ensues.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: dreamnotfound fics [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026964
Comments: 15
Kudos: 484
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	Laser-Tag

**Author's Note:**

> Both parties have stated that they’re completely fine with the shipping, however if either ever changes their mind on the subject, this will be taken down immediately.
> 
> Enjoy!

George felt sweat drip down his forehead. His hands were shaking, and he sucked in a sharp breath, gun pulled close to his chest and pointed up at the ceiling. He took a gamble, slowly turning his head and peeking out from his hiding spot between two wooden boxes, trying to see if he could spot a green glow anywhere nearby.

George felt his heart pick up speed every time any subtle movement occurred—which was bad, considering the floor was slightly shaking from the booming music of the club on the floor below them. Floorboards shook and clay vases rattled, George jumping out of his skin at every second.

Something about being hunted by Dream made him nervous.

It was different in real life compared to in minecraft. In the video game, he could simply log out if Dream was hunting him. Or, he could fight back.

Fighting back didn’t seem like an option right now, though. Not when the taller male could be patrolling around George—watching him, analysing his movements, waiting for the right moment to strike.

George didn’t like losing. But hell, it didn’t seem like he was winning this any time soon.

George lifted his hand and swiped away the beads of sweat collecting on his forehead. The light-up vests that all laser-tag players had to wear was uncomfortably stuffy, considering how much running around they had to do. Not to mention, the room seemed to be a sauna; George would bet his _life_ to say that the ice in the drink he left by the door was completely melted by now.

George heard a creak from behind him, and he felt his neck crack from how fast he whipped it around. Pointing his gun into the darkness behind him, he scanned the area with his eyes as best as he could—the only light source was the light radiating from his vest, and from the glaze of total darkness in front of him, he blamed the noises on his imagination.

However, George felt something graze his neck from behind, and he froze. He would’ve started screaming if it wasn’t for his body’s sudden malfunction.

“Turn around, George.”

George gulped, throat dry. He was suddenly extremely aware of the presence behind him, shadows creeping up his back and the coldness of the gun pressed against his neck making him shiver.

“And if i don’t?” George held his ground, trying to keep his voice even. He wasn’t entirely sure that it worked, though.

He felt the barrel of the gun move from his neck and press against his back.

“Then I’ll shoot you.”

Dream’s voice was cold, but smugness seeped through his words like golden syrup. George felt hot.

The shorter put one hand up in surrender, bending down ever so slightly to drop his gun to the floor. He wasn’t sure why—considering it wouldn’t help him in any way—but he figured Dream would appreciate it, so he did it anyway. The barrel of Dream’s gun gently backed away a bit as George turned around, eyes closed.

George stood in front of Dream, hands up. He opened his eyes, to see the taller male balancing on one of his knees on the large box in front of him, a hand against the wooden material to help keep him steady. Dream’s eyes glowed a dark yellow under the white lights of George’s vest, and the shadows framing his face were highlighted from his own.

George held his breath. Somehow, even breathing seemed to be illegal in the presence of this man. Dream raised an eyebrow at George.

“What are you gonna do with me, then?” George asked, eyes burning into Dream’s. The blonde shifted subtly, a hand smoothing out his creased yellow hoodie. George guessed it was yellow, anyway—although, thinking about it, it was probably green.

Dream hummed, eyes narrowing. “It’s like you’re doing this on purpose.”

George felt the blood rush to his head. He felt dizzy. “Doing what?”

The room around them buzzed. The floor thumped, still, and George felt like he would’ve fallen over if it wasn’t for the plastic barrel pressing into his chest.

George heard Dream suck in a breath. The blonde lifted his hand off the box, and George flinched, until he pulled his gun back. George titled his head, confused, but didn’t have long to ponder it because Dream grabbed his blue shirt and _pulled—hard._

George was yanked to centimetres away from Dream’s face, a small yelp of surprise leaving his mouth. Dream remained staring at the shorter intently, eyes scanning between George’s.

George felt Dream’s breath hot on his face, and his eyes flicked down to his lips momentarily. When he looked back up, Dream titled his head and clenched his jaw. George gulped, again, sweat dripping down his back at his close they were. The tension in the room could’ve been cut with scissors, but George prayed that it wouldn’t—something about the thick, lingering air between them made his head spin gorgeously.

The proximity between the two made George’s heart thump faster and his stomach flutter. He leant forward without realising, hand reaching out to grip the wooden box that Dream was crouched on. His hand landed on top of Dream’s, and they both broke eye contact, heads moving to stare down at their hands.

George felt heat rise to his face. He hadn’t meant to do that—but then again, maybe it was a good thing.

Maybe it was a good thing, considering when he looked back up at Dream—who was still staring at their hands—he noticed a light blush covering his nose and cheekbones, as well as the tips of his ears. George felt his breath quicken at the sight of it.

Dream looked back up at George slowly, eyes lingering over his features. His neck, lips, and then cheeks. George felt squirm-ish under his gaze, shifting his weight to his other foot.

As they made eye contact again, Dream barely even waited for George to register anything before leaning forward, grabbing his shirt again to pull him up and meet him halfway.

Their lips collided, and George’s hand gripped the top of Dream’s, his other gripping the box. George kissed back immediately, one of Dream’s hands lifting to stroke George’s face softly after he placed his gun behind him. George felt lightning strike down his spine. The buzzing of the music below them seemed to fade away, and George concentrated on Dream, and Dream only.

Their lips moved in sync—it was a strange sensation for George; he’d never felt this kind of pure heat, need and _want_ in a kiss before. The thought of the person kissing him being _Dream_ made George squeeze his eyes shut tight, crimson coating his face. George felt Dream’s blonde hair tickle against his forehead, and he leant forward into the touch of it.

Dream’s thumb brushed underneath his eye, rubbing his cheekbone as they kissed, massaging George in a calm yet jarring way that made the shorter’s stomach flip. George felt Dream tilt his head slightly before pushing forward more, their lips working even better together—George heard himself whimper at the sensation, briefly wondering how Dream was so good at this.

The blonde pulled his hand out from underneath George’s, and George was too immersed in their kiss to even really notice. That is, until George felt Dream’s hand grip onto his hip, pulling him closer. George was stationed in between Dream’s legs, his waist straddled by Dream’s knees considering how tall the box he was resting on was.

Dream then lifted his hand from George’s waist, reaching behind him. George briefly missed the contact, but Dream pulled his gun forward, and, in no time at all, he had it flush against George’s vest. George didn’t have time to even _start_ comprehending what was happening before Dream pulled the trigger.

The light on George’s vest faded, and George paused his movement against Dream, eyes widening and he stared down at his vest, lips still connected. He felt Dream snicker against him, before the blonde moderately pulled back.

Dream pressed a light kiss to right under George’s eye, before moving to the left and jumping off the box, brushing past a dumbfounded George who stood frozen, glued to the spot. George heard Dream whistle as he walked away, and the brunette turned his head to watch him; Dream had his gun flung over his shoulder, and he was looking down at the nails on his hands that were covered by fingerless gloves, seemingly unbothered by the entire ordeal.

In fact, he would’ve guessed that Dream had thought nothing of it all from the way he presented himself—that is, if George hadn’t have seen the blush that had glazed the blonde’s face earlier.

George wanted to shout after Dream—whether that was to shoot him back or to ask him to kiss him again, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that his body temperature was heightened, and he wouldn’t mind playing laser-tag again.

As long as it was with Dream.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! If you did, please leave a kudos :]  
> Comments are also greatly appreciated!
> 
> Follow my Twitter for updates on new stories and cool stuff like that; @xaccier  
> Thanks for reading :D


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